


XXV. Vernal Equinox

by causeimdifferent



Series: Wanted [25]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:10:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/causeimdifferent/pseuds/causeimdifferent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It stopped snowing. The sun is showing.<br/>Birds are singing and the air smells of spring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	XXV. Vernal Equinox

“Sir! Sir! Wake up! You are obstructing his breathing.”

The voice jolting Thomas out of his dreams is as irritable as an alarm clock.

He is still resting on Philip’s chest, which is warm and comforting.

 

Dazed Thomas rubs the bleariness from his eyes.

Philip’s face lies serene as if lost in a pleasant dream.

The illusion of a smile on his lips just for Thomas to see.

Rosy tint shimmering from under almost translucent skin.

Morning sun is spilling through the high windows of the hospital room.

_You made it through the night._

_You stayed with me._

Thomas has to fight the urge to give Philip a kiss.

A wake-up kiss.

“Sir, I have to ask you to remove yourself from the patient immediately.”

 

Thomas straightens up in his chair. The man glowering at him from the other side of the bed wears lines of disenchantment carved deeply into his face. Yellowish skin, bloodshot eyes behind black rimmed spectacles, a clipboard in his hand.

A spindly assistant half his age is fumbling about Philip’s left wrist.

_Hands off my man._

“You are the doctor?” Thomas croaks, his voice still scratchy with sleep, sensing the warmth of Jimmy’s body at his side.

_You stayed, too._

“No, I’m Father Christmas”, comes the testy reply. With annoyed expectancy the doctor turns to his assistant: “What are you waiting for?”

“His pulse has improved …”, the assistant remarks.

“Get along with the injections, I do not intend to strike roots.”

“Stop the narcotics”, Thomas intervenes.

The doctor’s neck gives a twitch as if pinched, drawing his face back multiplying his chin. “To what end, exactly?”

“I want him to become conscious.”

“Whatever for?” the doctor snaps, “He will be delirious - and in pain.”

“Anodyne is fine, but no more anaesthetics.”

“Oh? Why don’t you take on his treatment entirely?”

“Any time”, Thomas growls.

“Please give us a last chance to look into father’s eyes …”, Jimmy cuts in.

Thomas suppresses a hysterical snort. Philip does look older than his years in his current decrepit state, but he’d still be a remarkably young father to Jimmy.

The doctor's eyes dart from one to the other.

“Jimmy is his son, I’m his … brother”, Thomas improvises on the spur of the moment.

“He will not recognize you”, the doctor insists.

_You don’t care about him at all. To you he is a lost case already. Hassle. Just another shape under a blanket. Fuck you._

“Please, doctor”, Jimmy says, “Father would want it, too.”

The doctor clears his throat angrily. “Fine”, he concedes with an almost offended nod towards his assistant. “Just the anodyne. But don’t complain later if he is thrashing about and there is no nurse around at your beck and call.

Thomas furls his fingers tightly around the edges of the chair’s seat to keep himself from handing out a punch.

“And don’t get your hopes up, chances for a recovery are highly unlikely”, the doctor says instead of a good-bye.

“Thank you, doctor”, Jimmy cuts in hastily, grabbing Thomas’ arm for good measure.

 

“Here”, Jimmy nudges Thomas’s arm with a cup. “And here.” He drops a brown paper bag into his lap.

It is past noon and Jimmy doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave for work.

And Philip still doesn’t show any sign of coming off the narcotics.

“I am not hungry.”

“You have to eat something. You are of no use to him lying fainted on the floor.”

“I won’t faint.”

Jimmy snatches the paperbag back and takes out a sandwich. “Just get something down your throat”, he says, almost pushing the food into Thomas’s face.

Thomas takes a half-hearted bite to appease Jimmy, despite almost gagging on it.

“That's better. Now drink”, Jimmy instructs.

Thomas downs the lukewarm water with a slightly bitter note and a hint of cream. “Thank you, Jimmy.”

“I’ll get you another one. Or at least some water.”

“No, yes – no, that wasn’t what I meant.”

Jimmy hesitates: “What did you mean then?” He sits down again.

“Thanks for staying here with me. I bet you are still mad at me and … you should not get in trouble with your employer for not turning up and all … ”

Thinking of Jimmy’s employer brings back instant nausea and Thomas hurriedly puts the sandwich away.

“Don’t worry. That’s all sorted out.” Jimmy snaps.

“Ah – oh, good”, Thomas stutters. “Anyways - what I meant to say is: I’m grateful that you’re here. I'd go bonkers all by myself. You … you’re a good friend. A really good friend.”

Jimmy ducks his head: “No. No, Thomas. I'm not … I should not have run off the way I did. I should not have left you worrying. I should have listened to you, you were right, I had no idea what I got myself into with that Earl and all …”

Thomas draws a deep breath and slips his hand back under Philip’s blanket. Feeling his hand in his own soothes his unease, thinking of Jimmy and that ghastly Earl of Clarence.

Jimmy shifts nervously at his side: “I’m going to get us some more water to drink.”

“Yes”, Thomas presses through tight lips, “good.”

 

“I thought I could play him”, Jimmy says without warning or introduction, staring intently at the glass of water he’s handing to Thomas.

“Play … whom?” Thomas asks and takes a nervous sip.

“That Earl.” Jimmy shoves the hands in his pockets and turns toward the windows, averting his flushed cheeks.

“It’s like spring outside all of a sudden”, he says, “The snow is melting.”

“You don’t need to tell me.”

Jimmy shoots round: “But I want to, Thomas!”

“Shshshshs”, a voice hisses. Only now Thomas registers the only other visitor in the room, sitting at the far end of the single row of beds.

Six altogether, in all of them patients appearing rather dead than alive.

 _Funny they give them a room with a view_.

 

Jimmy takes a seat again, his voice is low, as he begins once more, still avoiding eye-contact.

“You see, I believed I could stall him – until I made a bit of cash or found another job. I thought it was a clever plan. But he saw through me pretty quickly.”

_Oh, Jimmy ..._

“So … I …” Jimmy’s voice turns into a whisper, “I did _some_ stuff, just, you know … touch him. Nothing more. It was enough to know I could not go any further.”

Thomas issues a deep sigh of relief.

“But when I kept refusing to let him touch me he got furious and threw me out. Without any pay. There was nothing I could do about it, really. It was a complete disaster.”

_Well, you could have stolen letters and tried to blackmail him …_

“We all make mistakes”, Thomas mutters, casting Jimmy a tender glance.

“So you are not mad at me for having been so ghastly and stupid?”

“Not even if I tried.”

_Especially not, if you’re looking at me like a kicked puppy._

“How come you are not mad at _me_ anymore? I … I should not have left you all to yourself that night.”

Jimmy shrugs: “We all make mistakes", he echoes Thomas's words, "You cared so much about me that you even told Philip to look out for me, how can I possibly be mad at you anymore.”

“He told you?”

“He sure did. He also told me …”

“Told you …?”

“… about the two of you. How you met and everything and how you split up back then, and how overwhelmed he was when he saw you again. He … he cried. I tried to despise him for being weak and all. But … but how could I despise him for having so much love for you?”

“I love him, too”, Thomas mumbles.

“Of course you do.”

Thomas gives Philip’s hand a tender squeeze.

“I was completely broke and the nights started to get frosty, he caught me lingering in front of the club being too embarrassed to go in there. Didn’t ask questions. He just smiled at me and gave me the keys to his rooms. Told me to make a fire and get warm until he returned. I had no idea what to make of it. You know, what have I ever done to deserve his trust? But it appears he was just being kind.”

_Did your lids just flutter? Or was that just the shadow of a bird passing the window outside?_

 

“He let me sleep on his couch until he found me a job and I could pay for my own room. Imagine, Thomas, I am working at the polo club now. As a waiter in the restaurant. I actually like it – and the people there like me.”

“That’s why you were around, when he had the accident.”

“Yes, I was serving hot wine punch to the spectators in the freezing cold and sneaked a peek of the game whenever I could. Philip is really good, you know. He should be a professional player rather than a trainer. He … ”

A twitch in Philip’s hand makes Thomas jolt as if hit by an electric shock.

“What?”

“I … I think he’s waking up.”

Thomas leans in to Philip, his heart racing. As life reappears on Philip’s face.

Pupils moving under closed lids, a tiny twitch at the left corner of his mouth, lashes trembling.

“Philip, Philip …” Thomas whispers.

A lazy blink.

Another.

Lips smacking quietly as if savoring a taste.

Lids rising and falling quicker now over a drowsy gaze.

Thomas’s hands clutch Philip’s hand almost as hard as Jimmy at his side digs his fingers into his left thigh.

Green-brown eyes focusing and defocusing on Thomas.

Defocusing.

Focusing ...

Focusing.

“Thomas!”

It is not even a question.

 

“Why are you crying”, Philip mumbles drowsily.

The only reply Thomas can muster is a series of sobs.

“What happened?”

“You fell from a horse during a polo game and almost died”, Thomas sniffles.

“Did I now?” Philip marvels, lifting his arm slowly, as if wearing knight’s armour.

His fingers shakily sweeping the hair from Thomas’s forehead.

“Well if that’s what it took to bring you back I’d do it all over again.”

“That’s not bloody funny.”

A quiver passes Philip’s chin. “No. But I mean it.” A smile sweeps across his lips. “Did we win?”

“Sod you”, Thomas sobs, “You bet we did. I love you.”

“Then it was worth it”, Philip whispers, tears welling up in his eyes, “All of it.”

“Yes”, Thomas says, “All of it.”

 

~ The End.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I felt the dire need for an utterly romantic happily ever after Crowbarrow love story. The Duke is being vilified in so many fics so this one here is up to make amends :)


End file.
